


Prey

by DollarForYourSecrets



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Anxiety, Dacryphilia, Demon, Gen, Implied Murder, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Monster - Freeform, Murder, Murder Couple???, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Obsessive Behavior, Parent/Child Incest, Past Character Death, Physical Abuse, Teratophilia, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Underage Character(s), Verbal Abuse, Voyeurism, Xenophilia, murder couple, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:46:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollarForYourSecrets/pseuds/DollarForYourSecrets
Summary: She was perfect. So absolutely, wonderfully, gorgeously perfect. 14 years of rest, 14 years to feed, and the first thing I’m greeted with is her. She’s beautiful, with jaw length, dark brown curly hair, and emerald green eyes. With her short and curvy frame, the adorable chub on her inner thighs and stomach, and the constant spur of anxiety and fear that runs through her veins that makes me feel so full, god I want to spoil her.WARNING: This is a dark story that contains rape, incest, and verbal/physical abuse. If you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, as this may be triggering. This is your only warning.





	1. Who She Is

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new story! This isn't fanfiction, but the Fear Demon character in my story is highly based on Stephen King's 'It'. I warned you in the summary of what this story holds, so if you're still here, that's on you. I hope you enjoy!

She was perfect. So absolutely, wonderfully, gorgeously perfect. 14 years of rest, 14 years to feed, and the first thing I’m greeted with is her. She’s beautiful, with jaw length, dark brown curly hair, and emerald green eyes. With her short and curvy frame, the adorable chub on her inner thighs and stomach, and the constant spur of anxiety and fear that runs through her veins that makes me feel so full, god I want to spoil her.  
She’s cute too, with a bubbly personality, and her little drawings that she's always working on. She wears adorable clothes, printed Ts and patterned button-downs, always paired with a pair of skinny jeans and her boots or sneakers. She has this one navy blue sweat jacket that she wears everywhere, and the amount of how much patience it's taking me to not just tear it off her right now is unexplainable.  
And she’s such easy prey, with her lack of stamina, her slight asthma, her tendency to freeze when she’s scared, and her limp that she has in her left leg due to an injury that was never tended to when she was little. It’d be so easy just to catch her when she on one of her bike rides, or when she’s walking home from school, always taking that little shortcut through the woods that her friend keeps telling her to avoid; just begging to be caught. She’s always listening to music too, so how easy it’d be to kidnap her is almost insane.  
I’ve spent 3 of my 14 years awake, simply watching. I’ve seen her grow, 10 years old to 13, and even in those few years, she’s matured so much. I watched her make friends, I watched her lose some, I watched her discover new things, I’ve watched her become the child that keeps me full.  
In the 3 years that I’ve been awake, on multiple occasions I have made myself a part of her life- a small part -but still a part. From being a spider in her room that she’s carefully delivered outside, to keeping myself rigid still as she cradled my at-the-time bunny appearance in her hands. I’ve watched and I’ve experienced 3 of her years of life, and I’m beginning to wonder if this is the way it will always be. Just me watching, until I go back for my rest. But I don’t want that to be the way things are. I want to steal her away and make her mine. I want to hurt and destroy and _kill_ and _**EAT**_ -

“Calm down.”

The small whisper that was intended for herself made my insides melt, the sounds of her breathy whisper as she tries to will her shaking hands to stop. She’s whimpering, taking in big shuddering breaths and heavier exhales, glistening tears spilling out of her big green eyes. She’s having another one of her breakdowns again, the tears coming more from frustration and anger with her homework than anything else, but I know that today has been stressful, with friend drama and the MAP tests coming soon.  
I watch from her ajar closet door as she forces her hands to grip the blanket that she sits on, as she sits ridged still on her bed, the math paper and textbook still open next to her. She’s desperately trying to keep quiet, her dad passed out drunk in the room next to her. It’s unlikely he’ll wake up, but if he does, she knows the consequences will be great. Memories fly through my head of her dad hitting and screaming at her to ‘get his anger out’. I remember watching him drink himself sick and forcing her to clean up his shit. I remember her trying not to gag as she got on hands and knees to wipe away his puke. I remember her shyly waking him up to tell him that she’s done, only to get slapped and yelled at for disturbing his sleep.  
I remember the rage I felt that day, keeping everything in me to not kill that excuse of a father right then and there. I hated myself for letting him live, but the way that pure, absolute, unfiltered _fear_ was so completely intoxicating that I couldn’t destroy the thing that was creating it.  
So many times, I’ve refused to kill him. I've refused to kill Paul because his actions against his daughter make me feel high. Just because Ruth's fear is so delicious and filling, and I can’t let that go.


	2. Glimpses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Ruth sees things, but she knows they aren't real... Right?
> 
> Also, the Fear Demon gets an idea.

Ruth wasn't religious. Both of her parents were atheists, and that belief settled even further into her dad's mind when mom died. So, Ruth never grew up going to church or Sunday school, and there was no way she'd be able to start now, especially with the state her dad had been in for the past few years. But even then, even though she'd never been inside of a church, or prayed before dinner, here she was, kneeling beside her bed, hands clasped as tight as they could be without it hurting, with tears streaming down her bruised face, praying to a God she didn't believe in. She whispered fast and quiet, begging for mercy, for help, for a sign, _anything_. She froze, words caught in her throat when she heard the unmistakable sound of the hangers in her closet clinking together.

Maybe a shirt slipped off of its hanger?

That thought process quickly ended when the clinking suddenly ceased, and everything went silent. Her sniffling and hiccups sounded too loud as she slowly turned her head to look at her slightly ajar closet door. A deep, curling, ugly mass of anxiety writhed in her gut, and she began to feel lightheaded. Slowly, and ever so quietly, with her eyes still trained on the door, she unclasped her hands and began to stand. She winced when her knees and ankles popped, the tiny noises startling her more than they should've. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her, she thought, even as the closet door creaked open the tiniest bit more, the squeaking of rusty hinges both obnoxious and horrifying all at once. She let out a shuddered breath and crawled backward onto her bed, pulling the blanket up to her chest like a shield. Tears came faster and faster as the bloody, clawed hand slowly pushed open her closet door and the lights began to flicker.

She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming as the hand slowly rose off the ground, and her hangers began to clink together violently and her lights were flickering faster than before. Not being able to stand it anymore, she shoved a pillow over her ears and hid under the blanket, face shoved into her mattress as she sobbed. Feeling that all hope was lost, she begged into her mattress, voice clogged with sobs and hiccups:

"P-please don't hurt me, please I'm so sorry, please stop, don't- don't hurt me please!"

Then, everything stopped. The hangers stopped clinking, the door stopped creaking, and the room was silent. Ruth sniffled quietly, snot and tears still running down her face. She slowly uncovered her head and peeked out from under the covers. The closet door was closed and her lights were working perfectly fine. She wanted to believe it was a dream or a hallucination, maybe her paranoia messing with her, but there was no denying it.

Her closet door wasn't closed all the way earlier.

  
~~~

  
The demon breathed heavily, shriveled heart beating faster than it ever had before. He clutched at his chest, and a manic smile spread across his face. God, that was one hell of a high. Even as he rested in the shack that he called home, he could still taste her fear on his tongue, still smell it in his nose. He felt exerted, breathless in a way he hadn't ever been before. This was the first time that he had scared her. Up until now, he had been feasting quietly on her anxiety, simply relishing in the constant thrum of fear, but that? That was the highest level of fear he'd ever seen from her, and the biggest energy burst he'd had in a long time. He cared about her, yes, but he wanted to do that again. Wanted to feel that high again, and maybe... Maybe even top it. He wanted to know just how scared she could get, wanted to see what she looked like at the height of her fear.

He wanted to scare her until the only thing she knew was fear.

Fear, because of _him_. 

He wondered; if a clawed hand in the closet scared her so much she cried, what would scare her more? Suddenly, a thought appeared in his head and a twisted grin spread across his face.

 _Oh._ _Well, that's an idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a kinda short chapter. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for sticking around!


	3. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dad has been acting weird... I wonder why?

Ever since that night, Ruth has been on edge. Before then, the lurking presence that was always around her was comforting but now, she felt like she was being watched even more so than usual. That guardian angel feeling had now turned into something grimy, dark and twisted. Something with thousands of eyes and every single one was on her at all times. She had started changing in the bathroom, but the eyes seemed to always follow her. She stopped taking the faster route from school to home, she stopped listening to music when she was alone, she kept her blinds closed and her curtains shut, but nothing got rid of the feeling. The deep, squirming, ugly feeling of anxiety was always present in her gut, and it was getting harder to focus. She was always on the verge of a panic attack, she was fidgeting and stuttering more often than usual.

Somehow, this feeling of being watched had taken over her entire life in a matter of weeks. 

To make it worse, recently, her Dad had been acting weird. She's been feeling her father's eyes following her every move. He's hasn't been hurting her or yelling at her, in fact, it's been quite the opposite. Any touches she receives from him are soft, or barely there. His words are quiet, irregular to the loud voice she's so used to. One day, when she was doing her weekly cleaning of the house, she was sweeping and her father was watching from the couch. She stiffened but did what he asked without complaint when she heard her father say:

"Bear, come here."

That's another thing. "Bear" was a nickname he used for her when she was little. Before mom died. He wasn't saying her name, he'd just say "Bear". It's not like she was complaining, it was sweet, but it wasn't normal. That confused her.

She walked over to him, and he gestured for her to stand between his spread legs. She complied. She stayed quiet and still as he stared at her. His eyes raking over her body, as if he was taking it all in again. Like he was seeing how much she'd grown. He reached up and she flinched as he rubbed his hand slowly up and down her arm a couple of times, before finally resting on her shoulder. He had yet to make eye contact with her. She held back her flinch as his other hand ran slowly up her other arm before resting on her shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. He sighed,

"You know Bear, the older you get, the more and more you look like your mother?"

She didn't know if she should respond. Usually, he doesn't like it when she talks. What do I do?

That question was quickly answered when he reached down and harshly spanked her behind, gripping it hard right afterward, not allowing the pain to go away entirely. His other hand grabbed her chin and pulled her face towards his, ignoring the surprised yelp she let out. Her knees buckled and she held herself up using his knees as leverage as he growled,

"Answer me you little shit!"

She choked on the sob she was holding in, and he spanked her again, this time twice as hard, and she fell to the floor at that. As her knees made contact with the hardwood, she knew they would be bruised later. She cried out, a couple of tears spilling as he slapped her face before pulling it back to look at him.

"Look me in the eyes and answer me!"

She wanted to be confused, to not know what was going on, but all she felt was relief. Her dad was still her dad, he hadn't changed at all. He was normal again, things were normal.

Eyes blurry with tears, she looked at him and cried out:

"Yes! Yes, I know!"

 His grip on her face softened the tiniest bit and he spoke again.

"And what is it that you know, Bear?"

"That the older I get, the more I look like Mom."

He seemed satisfied with her answer, and he let go over her entirely, and only stared as she slumped against his leg, a few stay tears trailing down her face. 

"And you know that your mother loved me?"

She looked up at him, green eyes glassy with tears.

"Of course she did."

He started nodding as if this was all one big equation that was coming together.

"And you're so much like your mom, so you must love me, right? You love me, don't you Bear?"

She stared, her dad had a look on her face that she's never seen. He looked desperate like if he didn't get an answer he'd die. It was both childish and terrifying at the same time, but nevertheless, she answered. 

"I'll always love you. You're my dad."

His nods were getting more forceful, and his eyes were darting around the room. Had he solved the equation?

"Yeah. Your mom loved me. And you know what she did? She had sex with me! Bear, I haven't had sex in so long, but you love me! You love me just like your mother did, so you'll have sex with me, right? Because you love me?"

Ruth's eyes widened, and she started crawling away. But oh no, oh no no no no no Dad didn't like that. An enraged expression appeared on his face, and he lunged forward and grabbed Ruth's ankle. She screamed and kicked as he pulled her back to him, her body sliding fast on the wood floor. He grabbed her other ankle and forced her legs apart, placing himself between them. He bent down so they were nose to nose and yelled.

"You think you can run away from me?! You said you loved me! People don't run away from the people they love! Do they? Do they?!"

Ruth sobbed, tears falling faster than they ever have. She began to fight and scream as she saw her father unbuckling his jeans.

"No! Please stop, dad please stop! No please no! Don't, please dad stop-"

She kept begging, even as he forced her pants off, even as he forced her fingers inside, even as he entered her. She cried and begged for him to stop until he finally had enough. He hit her in the head, knocking her unconscious. He finished soon, and left her on the floor, passed out.

~~~

When Ruth woke up, she was on the floor, her pants around her ankles, bruises all over her body, and dried jizz on her thighs. She picked herself up, stumbled to the bathroom, took off the clothes that remained, and stepped into the shower. 

When the lukewarm water hit her back, something broke inside of her. Broken, pitiful, and loud sobs exploded from her throat as she slowly sunk to the floor. She cried with more emotion than she ever had, and when it was over, she cleaned herself so harshly she turned red. 

Once she finished her shower, she exited and made her way to her room. As she passed the kitchen, the knife block caught her eye. Her hand twitched, and a dark, twisted side of her brain began to make itself known.

_ Never again. _

**_Never again._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter than normal, but don't expect this too frequently. Most chapters will be closer to the 700-900 word range. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed! :)


	4. Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He made a mistake.
> 
> Now he must face the consequence.
> 
> After all, as they say:
> 
> "What goes around, comes around."

The Fear Demon had calculated his plan, mapped it carefully, and he figured that once he went through with it, everything would be back to normal. He would get his high, and then it would be over.

What a mistake that was.

When he had entered her Dad's mind, he had felt and seen things in a whole new light. Now, he could talk to her whenever he wanted, look at her whenever he wanted, _touch_ her whenever he wanted. He had to hold himself back though, keep himself from hurting her more than intended. He had to work up to it, had to pace himself. Because when he reached his goal, the prize would be all the more deserving. So, he stayed quiet and watchful, relished in any and every single touch that he got or gave to Ruth. He did those little things for two entire weeks, and by the end of it, he was about ready to burst.

When he did, he took his plan way too far. 

He didn't expect this to be the end product. 

Ever since that day, Ruth hadn't been herself. She wasn't showing emotions and seemed more like she was going through the motions of the day rather than actually experiencing anything. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried. I mean, sure, he knew that rape could mess with someone's head, but he didn't think it'd be this bad! And even worse, lately, Ruth had been eying the knives in the kitchen. She wasn't planning to... _Off_ herself, was she?

 

_**Was She?** _

 

~~~

 

Her entire life, the only thing Ruth had known was fear. Everything she did was calculated, planned, precise. Because if it wasn't, she would have to face the wrath of her father. She had never felt more fear or felt as helpless as she did the day he raped her. She wanted to figure out why. Figure and logic a reason out of the entire situation, but no matter what she did, she couldn't. She raked her brain for answers, forcing herself to relive it over and over again in hope of finding an answer.

As she fell more and more into the complexities of thoughts and theories of  _why_ he did what he did, she desperately ignored the dark thoughts in the back of her head.

**_Do it._ **

**_He hurt you, didn't he?_ **

**_It's only fair and you know it._ **

**_He can't hurt you if he's dead._ **

**_So do it._ **

**_DO IT!_ **

These types of thoughts had always been running around in her head. But they were whispered, barely there. Now, they were upfront, obvious, and eventually taken into consideration. She could kill him. It wouldn't be hard. 

So, Ruth did what she always did.

She started planning. 

 

~~~

 

He watched from her closet as she sat on her floor, computer open with papers, pens, and pencils scattered all around her. She was typing on her computer while simultaneously writing down notes on a sheet of paper. She had been doing this for the last few days and nights, working on whatever this was for hours, before starting her homework around 12:00 am, taking a quick shower at 1:00 am, and finally crashing around 2:00 am or so. When he had finally gotten a peek at what she was working on, he finally saw the true extent of his mistake. 

Lord, he had created a monster. 

All of her recent searches consisted of:  _"How fast do human bodies decompose"_ , _"Cleanest way to kill a pig"_ , _"Easiest soil types to dig"_ , _"Best knife to use when cutting meat"_ , and even an " _Am I crazy quiz"._

 

So she wasn't planning to kill herself. No, no. She was planning something much worse.

And honestly? 

The Fear Demon didn't know if he really wanted to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a short chapter. Sorry for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger last time, and kind of one here. I'm sorry for the late update, but things get busy. I would like to maybe set up an upload schedule, but we'll see. I hope you all are enjoying the story, and I promise I'll have a new chapter up soon. Have a great day/night!


	5. Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth builds up her courage and finally confronts the Fear Demon.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry for the long-awaited update, but I'm happy to bring forth a new chapter! This one is VERY short, but you all can expect the next to be much longer. Also, the next chapter will be the introduction to a new character.

It was dark, the only light in the room emitted from the lamppost outside.   
She stood in front of the closet, the knife in her hand reflecting the light onto her wall.  
Her closet doors sat quietly, unassumingly. As if the only thing inside was clothes on hangers.  
Ruth knew better.   
She kept her breathing even as she raised the knife to point at the door.  
"I know you're in there."  
Her voice shook, she hoped he didn't notice. 

He did

Her hands trembled, but she kept her stance as the hangers rattled in response.   
"I don't know what you are, but you don't scare me."

That was the wrong thing to say.

The hangers clattered and rattled violently, Ruth backed away, heart beating loud in her ears. Instantaneously, the doors slammed open, and Ruth jerked backward, shoulders hitting her door roughly. Ruth breathed heavily as the room fell silent. She stared defiantly into the void that her open closet had presented to her. There was a pregnant pause as no one made a move to speak or move. 

Then an eye opened. 

One, single unblinking eye opened in the void. It was stark white with bulging red veins and a pupilless red iris. Anxiety writhed angrily in her gut as she maintained eye contact. Then, in her peripherals, she watched hundreds, no, _thousands_ of eyes blink open. But she refused to look away.

This was a test, and she was _not_ failing.

A few moments pass before a low growling sound poured out of the closet, thick and bulky, weighing heavy on her bones. She felt her knees buckle, and she fell to the ground, air escaping her lungs. She clutched her chest, breathing stuttered as she hauled air back in. Even then, she stared directly into his eyes. She faced the eyes that she had felt watching her for the past weeks, she faced the feeling of pure panic rush through her veins, she faced the Fear Demon.

 

And he submitted.

 

The eyes slipped shut until there was only one remaining. She huffed, heart still beating loud on her ears, and the last one closed. 

"Come out," she spoke, words even. The darkness of her closet pooled onto the floor in a puddle before taking the shape of a man. She stood up and stared up at the Demon's featureless face. A smile played at her lips. "Can't you talk?" She spoke, voice teasing. A mouth full of hundreds of pointed teeth appeared.

**"I can."**

Ruth shivered as she felt his words wash over her body. His voice had a weight to it, it was aged, and held knowledge.

Ruth liked knowledge.

"Well if you can then..." Ruth's eyes flickered down to the floor and she absentmindedly fiddled with the knife in her hand, "Why don't we talk?" The air filled with a sense of confusion, and Ruth knew he was raising his eyebrow.

**"Talk about what?"**

"The possibility of an alliance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you all again for sticking with me throughout my random small hiatuses and my short chapters. Have an amazing day/night you wonderful people!


	6. Is this it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth goes through with the agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I've been procrastinating. Really no other excuse, sorry guys.

Max was worried about Ruth. They had been friends since the beginning of the year, and while he didn't know her too terribly well, he considered her his best friend and could tell she wasn't acting like herself. In the past few weeks or so, she had been acting paranoid and looked like she hadn't been sleeping. Her grades were slacking, and she wasn't eating. He had tried to ask her about it, but she brushed it off, quickly redirecting the conversation. Max was aware of what went on at Ruth's house. With the number of bruises that were constantly on her, it was rather hard not to. Yet, he could tell that whatever was going on with her now, it didn't have to do with what she regularly faced. It was different, and not in a good way. 

Nevertheless, Max tried his hardest to make her feel safe. Hugging her, letting her lean on his shoulder to sleep during lunch, told her jokes to make her laugh, and all-around providing a positive, comfortable, and safe environment for her. But this? This was a lot.

Ruth invited him over to her house after school, saying that she had to tell him something. Max readily accepted, because he rarely went over to her house. Also, with the state she's been in as of late, maybe he could help her when she's in an environment that she feels more comfortable in, like her room. When they walked into the house, Max noted how quiet it was.

¨Is your dad home?¨ He wondered aloud, eyes scanning over the place.

Ruth shook her head as she led him to her room. 

¨Nah, he's the late guy at his work today.¨

Max nodded. As he entered her room, he only had one thought in his mind.

_ What the fuck? _

Ruth's room was in complete disarray. There were papers everywhere, multiple notebooks open on the floor, her computer was out, and pinned on her wall were pictures and notes, all tacked down with a string running throughout them in an intricate but chaotic web. It was like a scene from a detective or spy movie. She strolled in, easily navigating around her organized mess, and sat down on her unmade bed. She looked up at him expectantly, patting the spot next to her. Max walked over, eying the room warily. As he sat down, he looked over to her.

"Ruth... What is all this?"

Ruth smiled up at him sweetly, which caused what felt like hundreds of butterflies to erupt in his stomach, and spoke words with a voice much too sweet for the topic:

"I'm planning my father's murder."

Max's felt his stomach drop, the butterflies disappearing.

"W-what?"

Ruth's face contorted into one of worry. She reached out, hands latching onto his shoulders, and leaned forward. Max desperately ignored how the physical contact and close proximity made him blush a little bit. 

"Max, you don't get it. I _ have _ to kill him. There's no other way, it can't happen again."

"No other way? What are you talking about?!"

Ruth pulled him in more, their faces now way too close for comfort, and said, "He raped me, Max. If I kill him, he won't be able to do it again."

God, what had Max gotten himself into?

"No, Ruth, this is not the way to do this. You need to call the police or something. They'll see that you're not a virgin anymore, and with your evidence, he'll go to jail."

Max tried to reason, but his heart panged horribly as Ruth's green eyes began to fill with tears. She sniffed, eyes glassy as she looked up at him.

"Are you saying you think I'm crazy? I thought you were my friend, Max. Are you not my friend anymore?"

Max knew he was being manipulated, he did. But the sight of his crush crying because of him made him feel horrible. So, he tried to fix it.

"No, no I didn't mean it like that, Ruth. I never said you were crazy, I'm just saying there's a better way to do this, yeah?"

He pulled her up into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest, arms moving to wrap around his waist. She spoke something into his chest, but it was too muffled to understand. Pulling away, he looked down at her.

"What was that?"

She kept her eyes down, as if she was embarrassed, and mumbled, "the better way to do it is with  _ you. _ "

~~~

Oh god. Oh  _ no _ .

This is  _ not _ how this was supposed to go

The Fear Demon watched from the closet, rage simmering deep in his gut. What was this boy doing with his darling? His  _ prey _ ? His  **_Ruth_ ** ? And what in the world was his Ruth thinking, doing this while she  _ knew _ he was watching? She knew as she sat there, cradled up in his arms, that she could feel his eyes on her. She could feel his stare. Yet even then, she continued.

The Fear Demon tried to quell his anger. She was still going to stick to the plan, she was just taking a detour. Yes, that was it. 

Max's face looked pale with worry, fear, and confusion. He looked down at Ruth and questioned:

"Do  _ what _ with me?'

 The Fear Demon wanted to laugh at this kid’s stupidity. I mean, she _ just _ told you she wants to kill her dad and has only told you about it. It's  _ painfully _ obvious what she wants to do with you. He let out a small snicker, but quickly silenced himself as Max's face became panicked as his eyes became trained on the closet.

"W-what was that?"

Ruth's eyes flickered to the closet.

"What was what?"

Max gulped, "There was a sound from your closet. It sounded like... Like laughing." 

The Fear Demon smelled a pinch on anxiety from Ruth. 

¨Its probably just my hangers running into each other. I have shirts that fall off of them all the time and it makes the hangers clink.¨ 

Max didn't seem convinced.

¨No, that sounded like laughing. Like a snicker or something.¨ He looked to Ruth, eyes full of fear and skepticism. ¨Are you hiding something from me?¨

Ruth felt panic claw at the back of her throat. _It's now or never._ Jumping up and out of Max's arms, she shoved him back onto the floor. ¨Ruth what are you-¨ Max attempted to ask what was going on before Ruth interrupted him. ¨NOW!¨ She yelled, wrenching open the closet door. The lights flickered violently, and the last thing Max saw was the million pupiless red eyes of the Fear Demon.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Don't hesitate to leave criticism, I'm a new writer and looking to improve! Have a good day/night!


End file.
